


tell me you feel it/i know you need it

by pennydown



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Multi, Multi POV, PWP, Porn with Feelings, and kardala is there. briefly, don't look at me, this is really just these three having a threesome and waxing poetic about each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydown/pseuds/pennydown
Summary: “Wait! Were you worried about me?”“Was I- of course I was worried about you, are you stupid? We’re on the run from the government, Remy! Something could have happened to you!”She’s flustered, and angry, and she can feel his content radiating off of him, like a cat basking in the sun, and he slides up to her side, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. She squirms, for a moment. “I knew you cared about me, Nad.""Wh- Of course I do! When have I ever indicated otherwise?"





	tell me you feel it/i know you need it

**Author's Note:**

> if any of you tell the mcelroys about this so help me god i will Do Something

Life with Remy and Irene (and Kardala) is not, exactly, what Nadiya expected. She expected chaos, brought upon by Remy’s flaky personality, she expected Irene to be shy and coddling and irritating- but the last thing she expected was to miss the two when they were gone. They shared an apartment, a three-bedroom that barely contained them, and Nadiya found the rooms far too quiet and empty without the others. Their jobs were different, typical nine-to-fives with rigidity and structure that Nadiya envied. Not that her job wasn’t perfect- running a laboratory at a University and researching biotechnology was fascinating, but they let her come and go as she pleased, like a stray cat. That was to be expected, considering it was her invention and name that brought most of their funding, but Nadiya almost wanted them to punish her for not leaving her office for three days, or for running trials alone for weeks, or for snapping at an intern for standing too close to her. They coddled her, they treated her like something fantastic and special- and while she was both of those things, she almost resented the way she could do whatever she wanted. It didn’t make sense- it wasn’t like she was going to pull their funding for punishing her, but they were afraid, and… Well, fear makes people do stupid things.

Fear was one of the things Nadiya had tried not to worry about, her whole life, and had only really come to know it well when she was forced to become codependent with Remy and Irene and Kardala, one of whom’s existence depended on being within 100 metres of the other two. It was almost symbiotic, how much they needed her, and the fear she felt when they were late coming home was something strange and foreign. The ball of anxiety that coils in her stomach is irritating, as she comes home late (which is not unusual for her), and finds that the lights in the apartment are off. It’s eight in the evening, far past both Irene and Remy’s dismissals from work. She doesn’t bother calling out, as there’s no use in hollering to an empty apartment- and then her fear reaches a head. There were evil people looking for them, and the fact that they were on the run from very powerful people made the darkness in the apartment look like the end of the fucking world. She could almost picture it, clean gunshot wounds or electrical accidents- and since Nadiya hadn’t been home, their powers wouldn’t have manifested- and, _oh_ , Nadiya’s heart is racing. She can feel her pulse pounding in her veins, and as she quietly slips off her shoes, she frowns. If there is someone here, it’s better to get the upper hand and surprise them, but-

The light is on in Remy’s room.

This isn’t an unusual occurrence, as the scatter-brained man tended to forget to turn lights off, something Nadiya detested (they only had so much money for utilities). She pauses in front of the door, listening quietly, but the only thing she can hear is soft, ragged breathing. Whoever is in there is certainly alive. If it’s Remy, he’s either fine and Nadiya is worrying about nothing, or he’s injured, and Nadiya should help him immediately. She spends a few moments worrying, absently running her hands across the long braid her hair is pulled back into, before she steels her resolve and opens the door.

“ _Hgk--_ _Nadiya_?!”

Nadiya’s mouth is stuck open in a gape of shock. Remy is sitting on the edge of his bed, apparently having been interrupted in the middle of… Pleasuring himself. His pale, freckled cheeks quickly burn a humiliated red, and in his panic, he springs backwards, rolling across the bed until he collapses rather unceremoniously onto the floor on the other side. His shriek, when he finally responds to Nadiya’s intrusion, is high and anxious.

“Why didn’t you _knock_?!”

“I- Because, I- I-! All of, all the lights outside were off, and none of you were here- I thought something was _wrong_ , Remy!”

He peeks over the mattress, face still a bright red, and stares incredulously at her. Nadiya’s still standing stock-still at the door, hand on the handle, and she feels like she can’t move.

“I turned all the lights off because no one else was here, Nadiya! You- you always yell at me about that!” With that, her mouth closes, realizing the error of her analysis of the situation, and she folds her arms across her chest. Apparently words are hard to come by, today, and she opens and closes her lips a few times before sighing.

“... I apologize for interrupting, then, Remy. It was my mistake. I- _eugh_. You can get back to it.”

“ _Wait_!"

Nadiya pauses. Eyebrows furrowed, she turns back to peer at the small man, who has managed to (thankfully) right himself, now standing up, fully dressed. Nadiya’s cheeks still burn with embarrassment, though, and she finds herself unable to make eye contact. Her lips are pulled into a scowl, and she peers at Remy quietly as he approaches her. She’s reproachful, as usual, but Remy’s lips are curled into a sweet smile that Nadiya finds disarming.

“Were you worried about me?”

“Was I- of _course_ I was worried about you, are you stupid? We’re on the run from the government, Remy! Something could have _happened to you_!”

She’s flustered, and angry, and she can feel his content radiating off of him, like a cat basking in the sun, and he slides up to her side, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. She squirms, for a moment, but knows when she is physically bested: despite the fact that he was only _barely_ taller than her, Remy was once an Olympic athlete- and his strength shows. Besides, he’s warm, so Nadiya allows herself to be reluctantly embraced, Remy resting his head on hers. “I knew you cared about me, Nad,” he croons, using a nickname that he knows she hates, murmuring close to her ear.

“Of course I care about you, Remy, when have I ever tried to hide that?”

“Can’t you just let me have this?”

“Let you have _what_ , Remy? We live together, we need each other, we’re on the run from the government together-- Is it so far fetched for me to lo-” She catches herself, then, making a fatal mistake. Loving anyone was foolish- loving people who she needed to function was foolish. Allowing herself to care deeply about these three would surely be her demise, and she physically bites her tongue to stop herself from saying more. Besides, where Nadiya was intelligent and functioned based on thought and logic, Remy and Irene functioned with emotions and heart and it was so, _so_ irritating. Remy’s gone quiet, though, and Nadiya turns her head away from his shoulder to look at him, raising her eyebrows.

Remy’s mouth is stuck open, like a fish, and his eyes are wide. He looks dumbfounded (again, not unusual), and similarly to what Nadiya herself did earlier, he opens and closes his mouth a few times, uselessly stumbling over the beginning of a sentence. “You _love_ me?”

Nadiya, unfortunately, knows when she’s been caught. Distancing herself slightly from Remy’s arms, she sighs, a soft, irritated noise, and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Not _just_ you. Irene and Kardala as well. It’s foolish, I think, and probably going to get all four of us killed, but I guess it’s just… A by-product of needing you. So go ahead, laugh it up, laugh at logical Nadiya doing something so stupid as falling fo-”

Nadiya is interrupted. Well, not exactly interrupted so much as cut off, completely. In her flustered ramble, she failed to notice Remy’s smile growing, and his eyes glittering before he surged forward, pressing their lips together.

It wasn’t as though Nadiya had kissed a lot of people in her life, but kissing Remy is like something else entirely, something she’s never thought of, something so wonderfully new that she’s blindsided by it. His lips are soft and for a moment he seems still, like kissing her is the only thing he can think about. However, the moment passes, and their chests are pressed together, and she can feel his erratic heartbeat, feel his nervous hands paw at her waist. When she doesn’t push him away, Remy purrs, tugs her forward, pressing her against him even more, and rests his hands on the small of her back. He kisses her breathless, kisses her like she’s the only thing in the world, kisses her like it’s the only thing he’s living for. He kisses her desperately, and when she experimentally moves her lips against his, he laughs against her lips, a low rumble that makes her heart flutter, and tugs her gently toward his bed. It’s not often that Nadiya lets herself be moved like this, but so many things have happened in the last thirty seconds that she doesn’t really know how to react.

“I love you too,” he whispers, looking up at her as she settles to sit on his thighs, and his eyes are so warm and bright and full of emotion that it catches her off-guard. “I _love you_ , Nadiya, and I love Irene, and I love Kardala, and I love all three of you so, _so_ much that it kinda feels like my heart’s gonna explode.”

“Feelings won’t make your heart explode.”

* * *

That was how Remy found himself kissing Nadiya Jones, the most brilliant person he’s ever met. Her face is symmetrical and perfect, eyelashes long and dark, and the sleek braid her black hair is pulled up into looks heavenly on her. She’s fantastic, and he’s shocked that she’s allowing him to run his hands along her body. Her mouth tastes faintly like spearmint, like her toothpaste that he’s guilty of borrowing more than once. Her tongue is soft, and warm, and her mouth is warm, and he wants to kiss her forever. There was something about needing someone near you ( _literally_ !), and trusting them implicitly, that made her every touch electric against his skin ( _a thought that makes his mind wander, to Irene’s soft smiles and Kardala’s commanding voice_ ), and as he thinks about how his skin feels like it’s sparking every time her fingertips dance along his hairline, his mouth falters.

Nadiya notices this, and pauses, pulling away from Remy to peer curiously at him. Her eyebrows knit together, slightly, as they tend to do when she has to speak to anyone, but Remy flashes her a wide, crooked grin, and laughs breathlessly. He chases her lips with a kiss as he explains: “I miss Kardala. And Irene. And Kardala- I just miss them both,” he mumbles, and while he half expects Nadiya to be offended, she nods, tilting her head slowly as Remy mouths at her perfect jawline. She smells good- she smells clean, yet faintly floral (since Irene insisted on using fabric softener).

“I miss them too. Do you know where they went?” She asks, and as Remy presses a kiss to her carotid artery, she hums, low and pleased.

“Grocery store.” He mumbles between kisses, mouthing at her jaw, her earlobe, her hairline. Nadiya is so beautiful, so perfect, that he’s torn between continuing to talk to her (to hear her voice), or laying her down and pressing his mouth to every single part of her, from her battle scars and evidence of self-experimentation to her eyelids, her cupid’s bow- “She- they- should be back soon, I think.”

“Hm,” is the only sound Nadiya makes, Remy having drifted back down to mouth at her neck again, kisses becoming sloppier, teeth teasing. “They’re invited, yes?”

“ _Obviously_ ,” he purrs, pausing in his ministrations to laugh, giddy and excited, and he runs his hands up and down the slight curve of Nadiya’s sides. His fingers dance along her ribcage, and he briefly wants to sit and feel each and every one of them, to trace the vertebrae of her spine- “I kinda want Irene to sit on my face,” he mumbles, mouth no longer kissing at her neck, more like he’s panting, breathlessly. He can feel his exhalations, hot and heavy, and he laughs because that’s the funniest thing he’s ever thought, while making out with a hot girl.

_(Which didn’t happen very often.)_

“It sounds like you’ve thought about it,” Nadiya mutters, running her fingers through Remy’s hair so she can tug him backwards, make him look at her, and the pleased smile that draws across her face sends a jolt down his spine. “What else have you thought about? You looked focused, earlier.”

_(Shit. Jesus Christ.)_

Remy groans, in embarrassment, and shakes off Nadiya’s hand in order to lean in, again, kissing more insistently at her neck so as to avoid the conversation at hand. After a few moments, he sighs, whispering so softly he’s sure Nadiya has to strain to hear him. “I was thinking about Irene, haha, I’m so dead,” he laughs, hysterically- this morning he’d hardly thought Nadiya liked him, let alone was interested in hearing about what he jacked off to. “Irene, and I’ve got my face between her legs, and, haha, you’re behind me, uh, _fucking_ me,” he whispers. Remy’s sure she’s going to get up and leave at that, but Nadiya seems to stiffen, her breath catching slightly in her throat.

“Remy,” she murmurs, hand dancing up to his messy hair once again before she tugs sharply, causing him to gasp and sit at attention, staring into her eyes like she was the only thing in the goddamn universe, and, hell, she might as well be. He’d do anything for her, he thinks. “You’re going to sit right here, and I’ll be back in five minutes.”

The next five minutes are probably the worst in his life (and Remy’s been through some awful shit in a short amount of time before!), and he’s sitting right where Nadiya left him, right foot tapping anxiously against the too-cold laminate flooring, watching the door reverently. Nadiya hasn’t been gone very long, and his half-hard dick is fighting hard (mind the pun) for his attention. But then, the front door opens, and his eyebrows furrow. Was Nadiya leaving? That would be a major blue-ball, and he’d probably never be able to speak to her again, but then he hears Irene’s soft, lovely voice call out to them.

“Nadiya? Remy? Sorry I’m so late, the store was _so_ busy,” her voice rings through his consciousness like a bell, and he’s one of Pavlov’s fucking dogs, because he can practically feel himself drooling. Nadiya had left him with not only thoughts of her, but thoughts of _Irene_ , her lovely hair, her warm hands, the softness of her smiles and her skin. She smelled like goat’s milk and lavender, sweet and soft, and Remy can practically see her soft pink lips caught in a gasp, and _Jesus Christ where was Nadiya_. Thankfully, he sees her pass his open doorway, spilling light into the hallway, and she doesn’t even look at him- but she’s holding a little black pouch-

Holy shit.

“Irene,” he hears her say, softer than usual, but still curt. “Remy and I, uh, talked, and came to some realizations, and you should come with me.”

“What an awful way to phrase that,” he groans, hiding his face in his hands as he hears the women approach. He peeks through his fingers when he can feel them next to him, Nadiya teasing a hand along his shoulder as she settles beside him to stare up at Irene. The poor girl looks mystified, lips curled into a frown as she blinks at her partners in crime-fighting. Remy laughs, big and giddy, and extends his hands to her, tugging her toward them. Irene stumbles in the movement but quietly approaches, staring at Remy’s hands curiously. “We, uh, through a series of unfortunate events, realized that we’re in love with each other and you, and also really pent up.” He’s talking faster than he means to, stumbling over his sentences as he lifts one of Irene’s hands to his lips.

Panicked, she turns her gaze to Nadiya, her cheeks flushing darker by the second. She can’t even speak, but Remy can see Nadiya nod out of his peripheral, and she tugs Irene away from Remy (and he whines, because he suddenly doesn’t want to let either of them out of arm’s reach) and gets her settled, leaning against the mountain of pillows on Remy’s bed. He crawls over, quietly, and kneels by her side as Nadiya sits on her other.

“You- you love me? And- oh, Kardala says surely you mean her too,” she whispers, voice softer and huskier than normal, somehow, and when they both nod, Irene’s face splits into a massive smile, a laugh bubbling past her lips as she covers her grin with her hands. “Us too! We- we’ve been thinking about it, so much, well, mostly me- and-” This time it’s Nadiya who takes initiative, pulling Irene’s hands away from her face and leaning in to kiss her. Irene squeaks, eyes going wide, but eventually she flutters them shut to melt against Nadiya, instantly giving in and opening her lips to meet her. Remy’s breath is stolen from his lungs as he watches the two most important, most perfect people in his life kiss, and he wants them more than anything. Slowly, he shifts to straddle one of Irene’s thighs, mouthing at her neck- he can see the faintest hint of hickeys he left on Nadiya’s, and feels the urge to give Irene the same, to see pretty red marks flower across her soft, pale skin, and when he grazes his teeth against her skin she moans, lips pulling apart from Nadiya’s in surprise.

“Sorry, I- I haven’t really, done this, before,” she whispers, staring down at Remy with huge eyes, but Nadiya simply purrs, running her hand luxuriously through Remy’s hair again as her other works to quickly unbutton Irene’s blouse.

“We’re going to take care of you, baby, don’t worry.”

Hearing Nadiya use a petname makes Irene _and_ Remy moan, and he suddenly understands how the night is going to go: Nadiya’s going to tell them both what to do, and they’re both going to melt under her hands (Remy moreso, considering Irene was kind of an eons-old goddess and had just a little more sway). She seems to hear this, and gives them both an approving stare, on her knees by Irene’s side before she gently guides Irene’s hands to the hem of Remy’s shirt, and he flutters a gasp. Irene offers him a big, wide smile as she eases the shitty cotton off of his chest, and he can feel both women’s gazes on him. They hum, approvingly, in unison, and Remy gasps, in pleasure. Suddenly, Nadiya’s mouth is on him, kissing his shoulders, and his chest, and sending bubbly laughter fluttering past his lips. Her head dips lower, and his laughter turns into surprised little sounds, sounds that Irene swallows with her lips to his. She tastes sweet, she tastes like sugar and tea and her lips are the softest thing he’s ever felt, and Irene is perfect.

Irene’s hair is straight and dark and soft, barely falling past her shoulders, and the beauty marks and freckles that occasionally dot her skin are like constellations. Her eyelashes are long and dark and frame her beautiful, black eyes, and her face is round and soft and perfect. Her body is small and curvy, shorter than both Nadiya and Remy, and her skin is beautifully pale, pristine, and soft. His own hands move to rid Irene of her shirt, and then everyone pauses to get Nadiya out of hers, and the three sit in breathless silence, admiring one another. Remy’s body is muscled (and he’s appropriately proud of it), his skin pale and freckled and covered in small scars, and he can see Irene’s gaze linger on his happy trail.

Nadiya, on the other hand, is thin and willowy, almost as tall as Remy- and while she’s fit, she’s hardly athletic. Her skin is coppery and beautiful, always catches the light, beautifully, and as she reaches up to let down her braid, her long, dark hair falls around her shoulders in waves. She’s thin, thinner than both Remy and Irene, and he can count her ribs. Her sports bra, which is black, contrasts so beautifully against her, and Remy wants to tear it off.

Irene, beautiful Irene, is broader than Nadiya, pleasantly round and curvy- her thighs are strong and muscular, the curve of her hips intoxicatingly round. Her breasts are larger than Nadiya’s, and Remy absently wonders how they would feel under his hands. She wears pale ivory lingerie, soft and lacy, and though he knows Kardala would hate it, he thinks it’s beautiful.

“You’re both so gorgeous,” he whispers, staring in awe at his partners, at his favourite people in the world, and feels so goddamn lucky that they were pulled together by fate and destiny and science, and he’s glad that they’re both attracted to him, and he watches, enthralled, as they help one another out of their bottoms- Nadiya out of her straight, black pants, Irene out of her lacy skirt, and Remy stumbles to undress himself, too, finally leaving the three in their underwear.

“Remy, why don’t you tell Irene what you were thinking about,” Nadiya whispers, shifting to get up and move around the bed, as she nudges him closer, nudging her to spread her legs and let him settle there. He can feel her warmth, can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, and as he kisses her lips desperately, he lifts a hand to her chest, kneading and squeezing and _feeling,_ feeling her soft skin, and her heartbeat, and her breath, and the soft whimpers that he catches with his lips. He lifts his other hand to unclasp her bra as he separates from her, mumbling hurriedly against her while his hands move back to her breasts, feeling and touching and teasing her nipples with his calloused fingertips.

“I was thinking about- about, ah, you laying here, right here, and I’m between your thighs, eating you out, and Nadiya’s- oh, _God_ , Nadiya, _come back_ , Nadiya’s fucking me,” he whispers, hearing Irene gasp at his words, and suddenly it’s his turn to gasp as Nadiya rests a hand on his back. “Would- Would you like that, Irene? I really want to, really badly, actually.”

“Yes, _yes_ , please, Remy, oh,” she mumbles, hiding her lips behind a hand as she stares in awe at her companions, at her soon-to-be lovers, and Remy kisses her neck. He kisses her shoulders, and her collarbones, and her breasts (and spends an inordinate amount of time mouthing at them, perfect and warm and round, and he mouths at her nipples, feeling the way they perk up from his attention). Irene’s so responsive, humming and arching under his mouth, fluttering her eyelashes and closing her eyes every time she catches Nadiya’s gaze. Remy kisses her stomach, her bellybutton, her hips, and finally, he mouths at the hem of her delicate lace panties.

“Nadiya,” he murmurs, pausing to rest his head on Irene’s thigh. Her chest heaves, and Nadiya returns, once again holding her black pouch and sitting beside Irene. She raises her eyebrows at him, nodding for him to go ahead, and his words are breathy and desperate and his lips swollen and throbbing as he turns his head to look at her with a lazy smile. “Can I eat Irene out now?”

Irene gasps, and Nadiya’s lips twitch into a pleased smile. “Of course,” she murmurs, as she shifts Irene onto her knees to tug her panties off. Remy beams, and watches, and stares- and as soon as Irene’s settled again, he shoves those perfect thighs apart and leans in, licking and tasting and mouthing at her clit. She tastes fantastic- tastes soft and sweet and musky, and her thighs twitch with a moan. Remy’s enthusiastic, as he is in all things, and takes no time fucking her with his tongue. That phrase feels too dirty for Irene- she deserves to be worshipped and adored, like the goddess she is. She deserves soft romance, paragraphs of poems about how beautiful she is. She deserves soft metaphors, but Remy’s desperate, and he grabs one of her thighs to rest on his shoulder, moving so deep that his nose is pressed against her pubis, running his tongue broadly over her folds, then mouthing at her clit-

“Slow down,” Nadiya commands, causing them both to stop dead. Irene’s got a hand clapped over her mouth, eyes closed, and Remy pants against her thigh when he turns his gaze away from Irene’s pale skin to peer at Nadiya. Her eyes are narrowed, and she’s panting, and somewhere along the line she ditched her bra, and Remy can’t stop fucking _staring_ at her. Her brown eyes are glittering, and he’s completely still as he awaits her direction. “We’ve barely started to take care of you, Remy.”

Oh.

_Oh, boy._

He rests his head on Irene’s thigh for good, letting her smile sweetly down at him while Nadiya tugs at his boxers. She nudges him to rest on his knees, and he’s left exposed, and he realizes then that somehow, without his noticing, his dick has grown fully, and is currently dripping slowly, as Nadiya helpfully points out from her place behind him. Irene chuckles and runs her hand through his hair, purring lowly. “Oh, Remy, do you like us that much,” she whispers, thumbing his cheek before she presses her thumb against his lips, and he opens his mouth slowly, sucking on her fingertip as he feels Nadiya squeeze his ass. 

She purrs, appreciative, and Remy shudders. He knows his ass is pretty nice- considering his strong legs, his muscles, and the fact that he never skips leg day, and then yelps, as Nadiya slaps her hand over it. She teases him for a while, like that, spanking him and massaging his ass, and by the time she’s paused and leaned away from him, he’s panting and drooling on Irene’s thigh. He didn’t realize before just how badly he needed this, but now that it’s here, and happening to him, he doesn’t want it to  _ end _ . “Nadiya, please, please, Nadiya, do whatever you want,” he hiccups, letting Irene stroke his hair as he rolls his hips and arches his back. He chants her name like a mantra, like a prayer, and he feels her lips chase down his spine.

“I’m going to fuck you, Remy. Gonna fuck you and you’re gonna make Irene come, and maybe after that, we’ll let  _ you  _ come,” she whispers, digging her nails into his asscheek, and Remy whimpers. He hears her click a bottle open, and he feels her fingertip trace his asshole. She fingers him slowly, working him open methodically, just like he knew she would. Her fingers are long and smooth and practiced, and she works him open like she’s searching, like she’s trying to make him react-

_ Oh _ .

Remy  _ moans _ , lips falling open and his eyes fluttering closed, as she brushes something inside of him that makes him see stars. He hears her chuckle, and then her fingers ( _ three, now, holy shit- _ ) are moving faster, fucking him faster, and he hiccups, and moans, and Irene strokes his hair soothingly. “Perfect, Remy, you’re doing perfectly,” she whispers, in her soft, husky voice, and he’s drooling against her thigh. “Nadiya, you have to see his face... He looks starstruck.”

Nadiya takes that moment to pull her fingers out of him, to stroll to Irene’s side to peer at his face alongside her. Remy smiles, daintily, and his lips feel swollen and wet and his eyes are half-lidded, and he absently rolls his hips in the air, trying to get Nadiya’s attention. She hums, then leans to kiss Irene, all tongues and passion and soft laughter, and Remy melts. He’s completely at their mercy, on his knees before them, ready to confirm his faith and drink the proverbial Kool-Aid. His metaphors are getting mixed, but he doesn’t care, because Irene is delicately massaging Nadiya’s chest, and it’s like the most beautiful art he’s ever seen, watching them move against one another, hearing their hums and laughs and holy fuck, he’s never been so turned on in his goddamn life.

He’s also never been so in love, he realizes, letting himself catch his breath as the other two take a moment to kiss, to explore one another, and it’s when Irene moves to touch Nadiya that they both realize she’s wearing a strap, and suddenly Remy  _ can’t fucking breathe _ . It seems Irene can’t, either, giving Nadiya an awed, wide-eyed stare before tugging her in by the shoulders to kiss her, deep and slow, and the words she mumbles against Nadiya’s lips are incomprehensible, to Remy, but he can’t seem to care.

Moments later (minutes? Hours?) they break apart, breaths lingering between them as they both pant, and Nadiya quietly runs her fingers through Remy’s hair. Irene turns her angelic smile toward him, but in her eyes there’s a flash of Kardala’s command, and Remy whines. “Are you ready, Remy,” she murmurs, and he nods, so eager he can barely fucking talk, anymore.

He hears Nadiya’s lube pop open again, and his fingers squeeze Irene’s thigh while Nadiya slowly slides into him. She takes her time, as she does with most things, letting him adjust, and by the time she stops moving, he’s panting hotly against Irene’s thigh, eyes closed in concentration. “Remy,” she calls, tapping the base of his spine, and he hazily raises his head. “Weren’t you supposed to be eating Irene out?” Her tone is critical, snappy, just like the first time they met, and it sends a shudder down his spine. Deep down, he always knew he was something of a masochist, but there’s something darkly exciting about those words coming from someone who he’s wholly in love with. He doesn’t have time to unpack that, of course, since he’s leaning back in, licking and tasting and feeling Irene shiver beneath him. 

Meanwhile, Nadiya is finally starting to fuck him, and he moans against Irene, feeling tears well in his closed eyes as she gradually picks up the pace, holding his hip with one hand. For a little while, all he can hear is Irene gasping and whimpering above him, and the sound of Nadiya’s skin against his. He’s content, in this moment: content to be completely at his girls’ mercy, completely in love with both of them and the things they do to him ( _in every sense of the word_ ). After one particularly rough thrust, Remy’s lips falter and he sobs, gripping Irene’s thigh like a lifeline, and takes a few beats to gasp rawly, sucking in air like he’s been underwater, and Irene gently taps his shoulder to get his attention.

“Jee- Shit,  _ shhiiiit _ , N-Nnadiya, Irene- ‘sgood, ‘sreally, mmh-” Another sob passes his lips and he shakes his head weakly, laughing at his debacle while he mouths at Irene’s thigh. “Wanna come, wanna come, want you two t’make me-”

Irene coos, stroking his face with her hands, and the look she gives him is impossibly fond. However, from behind him, Nadiya stops, and when she finally answers him, she sounds breathless. “Not yet, Remy,” she chides, and he  _ wails  _ when she starts moving again, nodding desperately as he leans back in, trying to get Irene off with more resolve, this time. 

It doesn’t take long before Irene’s head is thrown back, lips quivering, and as Remy kisses at her clit she sobs, covering her mouth with a hand as she shudders, and Remy laps up as much of her come as he can, until she’s too sensitive and nudging him away, pulling his head onto her lap. He smiles up at her, breathless, and he’s obsessed with her taste, licking his lips and melting as she strokes his hair once again. “Thank you, baby,” she murmurs, and all he can do is nod, Nadiya having switched from a rather hard, fast pace to something slow and smooth, rolling her hips, and Remy almost forgets about his boner until she brushes her fingers along the tip. He shouts, eyes rolling back in his head while Nadiya quickly strokes him, jacks him off quickly and efficiently (of course), and her strap-on hits his prostate in just the right way, and Remy is sobbing, throwing his head back while his vision whites out, and he’s coming, and _coming_ -

And he comes down, panting in Irene’s lap, and Nadiya has slowly pulled out of him. He reaches for her, feeling her move behind him, and though he feels boneless and useless and can barely move, he kisses her hand, looking lazily up at them both. “You did so good,” Irene murmurs, and Nadiya nods her assent. And then Remy remembers that Nadiya has barely been touched, so far.

And that’s unacceptable.

“How d’you want us, ‘iya,” he mumbles, wiggling over to rest his head in her lap, letting his hot breaths dance across her thighs. She blinks, slowly, and then her cheeks burn red as she realizes, and she taps a finger across her lips, brows furrowed in thought. “We’re all yours.” 

Irene murmurs an agreement, kissing Nadiya’s neck, and the moment is warm, and soft, and Remy has never felt so safe in his life. They’re all there, safe and warm and smiling, and if this is what Heaven will feel like, Remy’s considering becoming a man of God. And then the moment passes, and after a bit of maneuvering and awkward laughter, shifting and kissing and mumbling, Nadiya is stretched out on Irene’s lap, Irene thumbing her nipple while kissing her slowly, and Remy is watching, fascinated, as he runs a sleek black vibrator along Nadiya’s folds. She’d explained that she wasn’t  _ huge  _ on penetration, but this was fine- he got to hold a strong vibration to her clit while lapping at her folds, teasing his tongue along her and shifting to kiss her thighs when he moves the vibrator. 

Contrary to both Irene and Remy, Nadiya doesn’t react much- she doesn’t arch like Irene or sob like Remy, but she bites Irene’s lips and fists her hand in Remy’s hair, so he thinks they have a good idea of how she’s doing. Her chest is heaving, breaths coming hard and hot and loud, and when Remy holds the vibrator to her folds and rubs circles around her clit, Nadiya tenses, and trembles, she bites Irene’s lip  _ hard _ , and pulls Remy’s  _ hair  _ so hard he thinks he just had a sexual awakening. 

While she shudders, and while Irene soothes her, Remy switches off the vibrator and reaches onto the floor for his comforter- and there’s another few awkward moments of shifting and maneuvering before they’ve all found a position they’re comfortable with, one where they’re all touching, skin-to-skin and safe in one another’s embraces. 

Remy lays on his back with his arms outstretched- and on both sides of him, Irene and Nadiya curl up, cuddled together on his chest. They’re so warm that he hardly needs the extra insulation of the blanket, but the heating in their apartment is almost criminally awful, so he tucks them in and kisses their hair. “I love you,” he whispers, like it’s a secret, and watches Irene’s gaze meet his in the dark _(someone, likely Nadiya, had turned the lights off in the commotion)_.

“I love you too,” Irene mumbles, “Both of you. And, um, so does Kardala, I think.”

“... I love you.” Nadiya’s voice is soft and curt and she says it so fast they hardly catch it, but they do, and Remy’s heart is so full. He never thought, the day that some wackjob criminals experimented on him and his team, that he’d meet the women whose arms would feel like home, but somehow, he’s impossibly grateful that he did.

* * *

 

When Irene wakes, not in her own bed, she is confused. When she wakes with her head on Remy’s chest, and Nadiya’s sleeping face in front of her, she thinks she must still be dreaming.

_ Gentle woman _ , Kardala calls, snapping Irene to attention.  _ Do you so quickly forget the events of last night? _

No, she doesn’t, Irene realizes, her face quickly burning red as her hazy mind wakes up, and she claps a hand over her mouth in shock. It can’t be real, she decides, some sort of mind-control, or illness, or something- because there is no way, no conceivable way, that two geniuses- a world-renowned scientist, and a former Olympic athlete who is a computer genius, could love her, Irene Baker- whose only talent was sharing a body with a goddess.

_That isn’t true_ , Kardala protests, chucking merrily. _You can cook meat!_

Apparently, Remy feels her stirring, and blearly opens his eyes to squint at her. Remy had begged for the bedroom with windows facing East, and in this moment Irene understands why- the golden light spills through the rectangular windows, washing Remy in gold and Nadiya in copper, making them ethereal. They’re fantastically beautiful, like Greek gods, and it takes Irene’s breath away. Remy blinks sleepily at her, reaching his hand to run his fingers through her hair. “G’morning,” he whispers, and she melts. Remy is handsome, and kind, and warm, and his arms feel like safety. He’s funny, and makes her laugh, and holds her hand at the grocery store when the lady in front of them shouts at the cashier. She waves at him quietly, though they’re interrupted by Nadiya slowly stirring, then immediately sitting upright- not one to linger half-asleep, she stretches her arms. And then, Nadiya turns to them, and her eyes are warm, liquid gold in the sunlight, and raises her eyebrows.

“Remy, it’s your turn to make breakfast.”

And Irene laughs, like she hasn’t laughed in ages, and Remy tugs Nadiya back to bed. She only hesitates for a moment before crawling back under the covers with them, and they spend hours simply being with one another. Their hands wander, as do their thoughts, and their kisses range from soft and sweet to heavy and needy, and though Irene and Nadiya are both reluctant to waste hours in bed, Remy manages to convince them.

And for a moment, for a snapshot in eternity, everything is fine.

**Author's Note:**

> title from the aces' 'volcanic love'.
> 
> can you tell i had the most fun with remy pov?


End file.
